


The Angry Part of Healing

by thedivinemusic



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Past Leah Clearwater/Sam Uley - Freeform, big ol queer crush, finding healthy coping mechanisms, new moon, past Bella Swan/Edward Cullen - Freeform, past Bella Swan/Jacob Black, yeah cause bella swan is obv so heterosexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedivinemusic/pseuds/thedivinemusic
Summary: Jacob's not talking to her, Edward's gone. Is there anyone who'll stay? Or, how to heal in tandem. The first step to healing is admitting you were hurt; the second is getting angry.
Relationships: Leah Clearwater/Bella Swan
Comments: 11
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

It was strange, like coming to underwater, staring up through syrup. Waking up. December. January. Jake.

And then he was gone, too. Angry, and no-one bothered telling me why. No call. No warning. I don’t know if that was better or worse, honestly. 

To wonder if you’re not good enough, or to know.

It’d been a week since I’d seen him, and I wasn’t buying mono, anymore, because Jacob was a friendly, warm person and there was no way he’d be the only person on the entire res with mono.

And he’d promised.

And I was angry.

And I was pissed.

And driving seemed better than crying, again.

The beach was frigid in February, but the cold felt good, stinging against my face until my cheeks burned and my eyes ached and I sat on the chilly sand and watched the waves and wondered what about me was so fundamentally repulsive that I didn’t deserve one good person in my life.

I don’t know how long I was there. I probably cried, again, but my face was too numb from the cold to notice until I heard a voice to my side.

“You won’t find any pohoak'sidat,” she said, and I jolted a bit at the sound. Leah Clearwater. She was tall and strong and even in the cold of February her cattail brown face was warm, empathy etched into the furrow of her brow and the lines of her eyes.

“Poke-si?” I echoed, pulling my legs in tighter as Leah sat beside me on the sand.

“Pohoak'sidat,” she repeated, gesturing out at the waves. “They’re giant women that live in the water. But you only see them before a big storm. Jacob’s Dad says he’s seen at least three in his life, but then he also says he’s seen a Sasquatch, so…”

I winced. Jacob’s name tasted acrid, now, like something that should burn but instead sat cold and heavy, a reminder of my own shortcomings.

“Yeah…” I said. The water looked peaceful, motion and calm, motion and calm.

She sighed. “You know it’s not you, right? Men are shit.”

“He’s not--”

“No,” Leah cut me off, not yet looking at me. “He is. They both are. Edward, Jacob, Sam--shit. All three of them. Cowards and trash.”

“How do you know about Edward?”

“Seth told me--and Jacob told him. I know he can’t control his family leaving, but to pull that shit in the woods? That’s fucked.” She huffed.

It felt wrong, like deflecting blame to pretend I hadn’t made my own mistakes.

“I never gave Jake an answer,” I said, dipping my head down. “I strung him along, and I--Edward--he deserved so much more than me.”

“Not what I heard,” she said. “I heard Edward’s a fucking rich little turd and his family fucked off to their mansion in Alaska or some shit, and you didn’t string shit. You’re depressed. It’s shitty to expect someone to become un-depressed just because you’re ready to fuck.”

I laughed. It felt brittle, but real, and I looked over to Leah to see the slightest bit of a smile pressing to the corner of her hibiscus lips.

“And Sam? Sam Uley, right?”

“Yeah.” Her smile faded, and she looked down at the sand. “Yeah, Sam Uley. Talking about what our house’ll look like one day, and entirely checked out the next. Never saw it coming; thought he was happy, but I guess he’s just a coward.”

“Checked out? Like--did he cheat?”

“Don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, he said he didn’t, but… he’s with Emily, now. Got with her about two days after he broke up with me. I guess it’s good to have a rebound or whatever, but man does that make you feel replaceable.”

“Yeah…”

I sighed. She sighed. I rummaged in my pocket.

“Do you smoke?” I asked, pulling out a joint I’d had sitting there for a week. It was half-stale, but the sticky-sweet taste didn’t suffer much for it.

“No. Pass it here.” She took a drag and coughed, and I put a hand on her back.

“Harry'd be pissed at me for this,” I said. “I should be a better influence.”

“You’re eighteen--barely. I’m a year and a half older than you. And Seth might not smoke, but he makes a good brownie.”

“I’ve been eighteen for five months. Don’t think that quite counts as “barely,” anymore.”

Leah nodded. “Still older than you.”

“Okay,” I conceded, looking back out to the water. I flicked a bit of my ash once the wind turned away from Leah. The sunlight would be getting in our eyes, soon, and I needed to get home to make dinner. Even so, I was slow to move; Leah was good company, and I didn’t want to bail before she did.

“Hey,” she said, reaching over to grab what was left of the joint, taking another puff--this time with less coughing. “I don’t wanna think about this shit, anymore. Wanna go get something to eat?”

“I was gonna make taco rice bowls,” I offered, watching her breathe out smoke, watching it wreathe her neck like fur and elegance.

“Yeah? Alright.” She stood up. I stood up. She was tall and fit and her presence filled every inch of space she took unshrinkingly and I wondered if she was as warm as she looked. “C’mon--you’ve got that truck, right?”

Quickly, I followed after her, only half-tripping back up to the parking lot where my truck sat cool and still. We climbed in, and as soon as I was out of the wind I began to feel how cold I was, shivering even in my heavy winter coat. Leah watched me a minute before reaching over to start the car for me.

“Won’t warm up if it’s off,” she said, taking my hands in hers.

I was right. She was so warm, the thick callouses of her hands a soothing texture. “Hey,” I asked, “how is it that you’re so okay with everything? How’d you get there?”

“I didn’t.” She slid closer, looking down at our hands and holding mine tight. “It still hurts. And I can talk the best game in the world; doesn’t mean I can follow it. But… but I’m better than I was. And it’s hard. It’s gonna be really hard for you, too.”

“I’ve heard, but--but what does that mean? Everyone says breakups are hard, but Jake and I weren’t even a thing and this is--I don’t know what it was.”

“It’s hard--you blame yourself. And that’s easy, because of course it’s your own fault, right? But look, I saw a counselor. She’s great. Really, really great--I’ll give you her number. But think about how you talk to yourself,” Leah said, giving my hands a tight squeeze. “Imagine talking to anyone else the way you talk to yourself. Try to say to me what you’re saying to yourself about this right now.”

“I don’t--I wouldn’t say that to you, Leah.”

“But you’ll say it to yourself?” She looked me in the eyes. I wanted to look away, but her intensity held me still when she spoke. “The way you talk to yourself is abuse, too, Bella. Look, just--call her. Do that much for yourself.”

I nodded.

Dinner was good.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Leah? Yeah, it’s Bella--I can’t sleep. Are you up?” 

-

Two days ago, as I dropped Leah off after dinner, she’d given me her number. “Don’t wallow; it’s not gonna help you get anywhere,” she’d said, and I grimaced. A part of me wanted to vanish into my memories of Edward, let the longing and the sorrow eat me alive, let the ache chew a hole through me sternum and tip ice through my belly.

“Did the therapist tell you that?” I asked.

“Didn’t have to,” she said. It sounded like a lie. “It should be common sense not to hold onto things that hurt you.”

I went quiet, then, sitting beside her in the car. I knew how hard it was to own your pain, your vulnerabilities; I didn’t begrudge her that. Instead, I wrung my hands and looked to the Clearwater house, warm light tumbling from the windows and Harry sitting in his armchair watching what looked like Jeopardy reruns.

“What if… what if they’re good memories, too?” I asked. “What if I don’t want to lose those?”

“You might lose them, anyway.” The words fell down my spine, cold and damp. “Trauma does that, you know? It makes you lose things; I guess your brain can’t pick through what’s good and what’s bad so it just gets rid of the whole thing.”

I couldn’t imagine forgetting either of them. Edward had been all-consuming, gravitational and real, and even now all I wanted was to see him one more time, just hear his voice again. And Jacob--Jacob had been warm and sure and steady until suddenly, he wasn’t. 

“Hey.” Her voice cut through what felt like a rough, jagged slope, a quick descent, and I--”Write it down. The stuff you don’t want to lose, I mean. Write that down, so you can know you’re not going to lose it, and then--when you start thinking about shit that sucks--you can let it go without worrying about the shit that doesn’t suck.”

“Oh.” It felt too simple, and a part of me wanted to resist the idea and let myself feel hopeless, but I knew she was right. So I thanked her, and when she got out I waited to make sure she was inside, and then I drove home.

By then, Charlie was out on a call; being an EMT meant he vanished sometimes, but tonight I didn’t mind the space. I took a notebook out of a stack I kept--tall and voluminous like a dragon’s hoard--and sat on my bed, chronicling what I remembered of Edward until sleep overtook me.

I didn’t dream that night.

-

“Bells! Leah’s here,” Charlie called up the stairs, and for a moment I worried about getting caught. But Charlie loved Leah like a niece. Edward’s face flashed across my mind, coming into my room in the middle of the night and I wondered for the first time if maybe that was weird.

“Hey.” Her voice was steady and sweet, deeper than Alice’s and less smooth than Rosalie’s and less hollow than Esme’s. It sounded full and real and earthy, and I smiled when she came in.

“Hey,” I said, setting a book aside and making room for Leah to sit on the bed. She smelled like she’d been in the sunshine, today. “I know it’s still pretty early.”

“It’s fine, Grannie,” she teased, making herself comfortable and setting a paper bag down on the bedside table. “Charlie said you didn’t eat dinner, so I brought some of Dad’s trout jerky.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat, anyway. Haven’t you ever heard of eating your feelings?”

“My metabolism isn’t fast enough to eat my feelings,” I said, and Leah sat up, a worried look on her face.

“Bella… you’re allowed to gain weight, you know.”

“Yeah, but what if I get--you know…”

“Fat?” Leah sighed, shoving the bag of jerky into my hands. “They you get fat. Not ugly. Not gross. Not unlovable. Not unworthy of--of whatever. Now eat some jerky or I’ll drag you downstairs to bake something.”

It was weird to hear out loud, and seemed like such a juvenile thing to be worried about, and yet wasn’t this supposed to be where my mind was at eighteen? Boys and girls and weight and not life and death and commitment? I took out a piece of trout jerky and took a bite; it was salty and mellow and good.

“Would you still hang out with me if I was fat?” I asked, and I knew Leah would give me an honest answer because Leah never lied about how she felt.

“I would.”

It settled something that I hadn’t known was buzzing in me; the promise that I didn’t have to look like anything. The promise that I deserved to have a friend.

I took another bite. “I wouldn’t mind baking something,” I admitted.

She smiled. My stomach fluttered.

We decided on snickerdoodles.

Downstairs, Charlie had on the game, and he gave a little wave as we came down. “Hey, Leah, talk to me before you head home, okay? I grabbed some Lovastatin, Lasix, and Niacin samplers from the med closet for him to try. I know there was some worry about how much it’d cost, but we get those samples free and they’ll get pitched if they don’t get used.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” she said, and I held my tongue. Charlie’d said Harry was having some heart troubles; I was glad there was something he could do to help. Leah and Seth were too young to have to lose someone like Harry.

“Actually--I’ll leave ‘em on a bag on the door. Dunno what tonight’ll look like for me, but make sure you don’t forget ‘em, okay? And don’t let Bells burn down the kitchen,” he teased, getting a laugh from Leah.

“Yeah, I’m definitely the danger to the kitchen in this house,” I tossed back, and I saw Charlie’s eyes light up a bit; it had been a while since I’d felt up to banter.

We walked into the kitchen, then, and Leah went to get out the dry ingredients while I got eggs, milk, and butter. 

“So… can I ask something about your Dad’s situation?” I started, cutting the butter into small pieces while Leah looked up a recipe.

She nodded. “Sure.”

“It’s just… are you guys having money trouble?”

Leah sighed. “Everyone has money trouble,” she said, setting the recipe down and going to measure out sugar.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I asked. How much are his medications?”

“A lot. The Lasix is the expensive one, I mean.”

I nodded. “It’s just… Renee sends me money every month for whatever, and I don’t need anything.”

Leah bit her lip, pausing in front of the mixing bowl. “Dad wouldn’t want to ask for help,” she said slowly, and I nodded. Money was a hard subject, and so was health, and so was pride. “And this isn’t something you should have to deal with.”

“You shouldn’t, either,” I pointed out. “But here we are. What if you told your Dad you were doing some work for Charlie? Then it’s earned money, right?”

Her features softened, crinkled corners of her eyes smoothing as she met my gaze and I felt my heartbeat race. Her eyes were so brown, I thought of rich soil and wet tree bark and seashells and acorns and I could imagine making a home in a place like Forks when verdance felt like this.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

The snickerdoodles were perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters are intellectual property of S. Meyer.


	3. Chapter 3

The weekend was coming soon, and I had asked Leah if she was busy. 

I’d started drawing again--something I hadn’t done since I was very young. It was odd, how quickly it all came back to me, and I wasn’t particularly good, but I felt like I wanted to work on it.

She made me feel like I wanted to get better.

I’d met with Leah’s counselor. It was weird. I’d met with her after a day of not much, and somehow speaking with her left me drained, and even so--I felt lighter, now. I’d see her again in a week.

“That Leah--she’s a good influence on you, Bells, and I mean that,” Charlie said that evening. “Jake was, too, but there’s something about how you’ve perked up this past week or so. Leah really brings something good out in you, I think.”

And I didn’t flinch; Jake’s name didn’t sting so much when I knew Leah was coming by for dinner, tomorrow. I could almost think about Edward without wanting to claw, to tear, to break.

“She’s pretty cool,” I said, taking a bite of spinach and pasta and butter and basil and tasting like I hadn’t in too long.

“Cool,” he said, and trailed, and ate. “Bella? Can I ask you something?”

Charlie looked uncomfortable, but I nodded and worried if I’d done something.

“Well, I was talking to my coordinator and thinking about taking a vacation in a few weeks.” He set his cup down, looking at me now. “Originally, I’d thought about Harry and Billy and me all taking a big fishing trip--”

“You should,” I said.

“Well, that’s what I thought at first, but I thought maybe they should take Sue with them, this time. She hasn’t had the chance to go with them for a while, anyway, and I thought it’d be a good chance for the group to have some fun.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” It was. Sue was a kind person, warm and funny and maybe even a little mischievous. She had a dry wit and was fiercely protective of Leah and Seth, and sometimes I wondered what it was like to have a mother like that.

“It is,” he said, nodding. “So I saw there’s this convention in Seattle in March, and it’s about women in literature and women writing literature and--well, I know you love Bronte at least, and there’s a panel discussion about her…”

He trailed off, but I could feel something like excitement welling up in me, bubbles and fluttering. “Dad--you didn’t!”

“Three tickets. Figure you and Leah could share a hotel room, and I’ll be right next door. And before you ask, I already talked to her and she’d love to go.”

I huffed, and felt the scrunch of a smile that forced my eyes half-shut, and I got up to hug him. “I can’t believe you’d do that,” I laughed, feeling warm as he hugged me back. Feeling safe. “Dad--that’s so much. Thank you. Seriously, I just--thanks.”

And we talked a while after, figuring out travel plans and what we’d bring and all I could think about was how much fun it would be to go with Leah. And then--

“Dad, are you gonna have fun, though? I thought you didn’t read much.” Worry. If he was bored during the trip, would I have to find something to entertain him, or would Leah be bothered with complaining, or--

“Don’t you worry about me, Bells. Robin Folette and Maddie Brenneman and, I think, Kiki Galvin are gonna be talking about their new angling book on Sunday, but aside from that I’d actually like to get a chance to learn more about the books you like. You’re my daughter. Even if there wasn’t anything for me, I’d still want to go just to know more about what you like.”

It took me a minute to realize why my face felt damp, and I sniffled a bit as I wiped at my eyes. Before I knew it, Charlie’d stood and pulled me in close, and I wondered why I was crying.

I decided I could talk about it with my counselor, later.

That night, I dreamed something calm, Leah and me and the beach, her brown skin lit up in the sunset. I dreamed she smelled like chicory and willow, and I wondered at how warm her smile was, and I woke Friday morning with the slightest smile already settled on my lips.

At school, I felt alone. I saw Jessica, and I remembered making fun of her with Edward, and I wondered--I wondered if she’d ever really deserved it. She thought highly of herself, but was that worthy of ridicule? She liked feminine things; I didn’t. But that difference didn’t mean I liked better things, did it?

I thought of Leah’s counselor--my counselor, too, now. Bianca seemed so welcoming to our differences, and made me feel so allowed to like what I liked; what made me allowed to treat others differently?

“Hey, Jess?” I called, going to her between classes. 

She looked at me distrustingly. I didn’t blame her. I’d been untrustworthy.

“I--well, I was wondering if you wanted to go get ice cream after school. My treat, and I think--I think I owe you an apology.”

“Yeah, you do,” Jessica said. It stung, but I didn’t flinch. “In fact, I think you owe me a lot, Bella. You’ve kind of been an asshole, you know that?”

I nodded. Self-flagellation wouldn’t make her feel better, though. This wasn’t about me. “I do. I think you’ve probably got a lot you want to say, and if you want to say it to me I’m willing to listen, and if you don’t want to be friends with me I understand that, too, since I’ve treated you so badly.”

“You have…” she trailed off, something seeming to cool and settle behind her eyes. “Okay. But I need some time to figure some things out, so not today.”

“Okay. Then when you’re ready, I’m here.”

And maybe we weren’t cool, but I felt like maybe I could fix this. I’d done some research, and I had another meeting, soon, and Charlie had said time was as important as an earnest apology and an open ear.

When Leah came over, I asked her about it.

“I think that sometimes you can’t fix things,” she said, and the honesty helped even if it hurt to think I’d broken something beyond repair. “I mean, from what you’ve said? I don’t know that I’d want to hang out with you if that’d been me. But I know you’re… different, now. You’re trying to be different. I guess you just have to give her space and time and if she wants your apology, then she’ll ask for it.”

I nodded. “You’re right; stressing about it won’t change anything, now. And I’m grateful, honestly, that you don’t bullshit me. It’s… nice, I guess, to not just be told what I want to hear.”

She laughed at that, an honest sound, and it filled me with so much flutter and so many bubbles and she looked at me like she saw me. “You don’t bullshit me, either, Bella. I appreciate that about you, too.”

“Is that all you appreciate about me?” It came out before I could think, but Leah didn’t seem put off, shaking her head and giving my ponytail a little tug. 

“Come on, let’s make something before Charlie gets home,” she said, hopping off the bed to start downstairs.

I felt my face flush red and my heart race as I hurried after her. Near the bottom, though, I missed my mark and managed to slide down three steps and smack my shin against the banister. 

“Oh!” I heard Leah before I saw her, suddenly in front of me and helping me over to the sofa. Her arms were strong and steady, and I didn’t doubt that she could’ve carried me if I’d needed it. “Bella…” The air slipped so softly from her mouth, and the flush hadn’t left my face, and she was rolling up my pajama leg to look at my shin.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I lied, and she gave me a sour look and poked the skin where I’d slammed the rail. 

I winced hard. “Liar,” she said. “Stay here and I’ll get an ice pack, okay?”

“It’s not that bad, at least,” I tried to convince her, but she shook her head. “But I want to bake with you…”

“And we can make something after I get a good look at your ankle and put some ice on that bruise-to-be, okay?”

“Okay.”

She was meticulous when she took care of me, her fingers a warm contrast to the chill of the frozen peas. “I’m surprised Charlie doesn’t have more ice packs, here,” she admitted, and it was my turn to laugh, a breathless sound for how distinctly I felt her fingers on my ankle.

“He does, but they’re kind of buried at the back of the freezer. It’s, like, impossible to find them if you’re not digging. Anyway, peas work better.”

Leah nodded. “They do.”

I sat up, watching her as she felt around on my ankle. “Nothing there hurts. Promise.”

“Okay, but you’ll tell me if you start to have trouble walking?”

“I will.”

She pulled away, looking up at me from where she knelt on the floor, and I wondered if her cheek was as soft as it looked. I wondered what her hair felt like tucked behind her ear.

I wondered what she’d taste like if I kissed her.

My face flushed hotter, and I ducked my head as Leah got to her feet to take the peas back. I knew--of course I liked girls, too. I knew I was bi. But Leah was just… dizzying. Beautiful in a way of her own. Real and warm and strong and rough as she was soft.

I’d have time to dwell on that, later. For now, we were making jam thumbprint cookies and I was trying to ignore the little bit of powdered sugar that wound up on Leah’s cheek.

That night, as I lie in bed, I had some thinking to do. I liked Leah; I couldn’t keep pretending that I hadn’t immediately fallen for her. She was smart in a way I was still learning to be, and she was honest as rain, and she was so heart-stoppingly beautiful.

But she was still healing. And Sam had rebounded so fast. And I was getting over Jacob, too, and could I be entirely, sincerely sure that this was something big enough to risk a friendship in its infancy for?

I wanted Leah in my life; I knew that much for sure. But the how was what had me caught up and stuck.

Leah and I had meant to meet up on Saturday, but Jessica called and asked if I could meet her by the bleachers. Leah told me to go. I thanked her, and I went.

“I almost didn’t think you’d come,” Jessica admitted as I pulled up. I didn’t say anything at first, making my way over to where she sat on the bleachers.

“I haven’t made you a priority,” I said, phrasing it the way I’d read it. “It’s… it was really shitty.”

“Yeah, it was. And it sucked, feeling like I could never do enough to convince you I was worthy of being a priority,” Jessica said.

“You are, though.”

“I know that.” 

We were quiet. I slipped my hands into my pockets, facing Jessica and giving her time to get her thoughts together.

“You know,” she started, meeting my gaze with a fiery intensity, “I really started to wonder if there was something wrong with me. You made me feel like something was wrong with me, Bella. I could call you names, but honestly? It feels hollow… I wanted you to like me so, so much because I thought you were cool, and I was just a background character to you, wasn’t I?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have anything to say. She was right.

“And do you have any idea how much that hurt? Because Angela and Mike and Eric and Tyler and just, like, everyone thought you were so cool. And I felt like I was being a bitch about you for so long but, like, that was all you. I just…”

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Jessica?” I started, looking to her for permission to speak. She sat quietly. “You… don’t owe me anything. And you don’t have to forgive me. I just--I hurt you. A lot. And I want to help fix that, if I can. I won’t lie and say I don’t want another chance at being your friend, but what I want doesn’t matter more than what you need. So… tell me what you need, and I’ll do what I can.”

“What I need…?” Jessica gave a short laugh, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. “I needed a friend, Bella. But… if you’re really different this time, if you really--and I mean really--get what you did wrong, and you’re not gonna do it again, then… we can try. But this is it, okay? Fuck up again, and don’t bother talking to me. Understood?”

I nodded.

And then we were quiet, and quiet, and quiet, and…

“So is Mike the only guy in school you’re into?”

“Well, honestly? I don’t know, you know? Like, I think maybe he’s going through a little bit of a crisis and I’m not sure if it’s something I should be talking about?”

“Yeah? Then what about Tyler? He’s pretty cute, right?”

“Super cute,” she agreed, crossing her legs. “But also kind of into Angela, so there’s that.”

“Can’t blame him. Angela’s really cute, too.”

“Right? Like, I don’t think I’m gay, but she’s really pretty.”

And like that, things felt a little better. Jessica and I met up with Leah, later, and the three of us got ice cream and had a really, genuinely good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own no part of The Twilight Saga.

**Author's Note:**

> I claim no ownership over these characters.
> 
> Pohoak'sidat is my best attempt at English transliteration of the Quileute legend; if there's a more accurate or more appropriate transliteration, please let me know!


End file.
